


Wait- Scratch That

by xSheepie



Series: Bikers Like Their Coffee Just Fine [3]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Drabble Collection, Drug Dealing, Guns, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSheepie/pseuds/xSheepie
Summary: Crank dealers are a no-no.





	

Chibs arrived at The Bean Hive later then he wanted to. It was nearly one AM when he parked and swung off his bike. He was looking forward to a shitty coffee and maybe a good lay as he entered the softly lit, empty store. He waited by the counter for Juice to come out from the back, beckoned by the sound of the bell.

He didn’t come.

Chibs checked his phone to make sure he hadn’t been cancelled on but no- no new text. “Juicy boy?” he called, curious but not yet concerned. Chibs pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stepped outside to smoke it while he waited. He paced around the front of the store, keeping one eye on the window, waiting for Juice to come back out, brimming with excitement and sly humor.

Then he heard it. A thud; hard knuckles hitting flesh. Chibs flicked his cig to the ground and pulled out his gun as he stalked closer. A soft gasp and ragged breathing from two different people. Chibs carefully peered around the bricks and caught his breath. The back door of the shop had been propped open and the weird light spilled out onto the alley. Broken cement crunched under boot as someone- who was clearly Juice- stepped away from a huddled figure crouching against the building.

“Can you count now, fuckhead?” he snarled and shifted his weight so the other man flinched.

“Sor-sorry, man.” The figure patted his pockets and pulled out a couple bills, handing them over. Juice reached for them and the faceless man unsheathed a knife and swiped it in an arc. Juice leapt back but right as Chibs was about to come out from behind his corner, Juice settled into a stance and drew a gun.

“Drop it.” He near whispered. The light from inside made the blood glistening on his forearm visible for a second even though his face was expressionless. Chibs shivered but didn't put his gun away.

The knife clattered to the ground.

“Put the money and dope down. You don’t buy from me anymore. If you come here again I’ll put a bullet through your head.” Juice’s instruction were followed shakily. “No one cares about junkies, Rhys.”

Rhys stood carefully, edging around Juice and backing away towards the highway. “You’d know.” He muttered and melted into the darkness.

Chibs tucked his gun away as Juice did. He stayed frozen a long moment before taking a rattling breath and stooping to pick up the crumpled bills and little bag of crank. "Motherfucker," he muttered as he examined his arm. Juice lit up, took a few puffs and stomped it out before going back in and letting the heavy door slam shut behind him. Chibs let his head fall against the bricks and sighed.

 _A fucking dealer_ , he thought. _Naturally_.

Chibs scowled to himself as he pulled his driving goggles back on, kicked his bike into gear and put the coffee shop to his back.

-

Juice cleaned and wrapped his forearm and then took his seat behind the counter to wait for his biker. He took three aspirin for the gash in his arm but the thought of Chib's is what put the smile on his face and it only dimmed when he closed up shop, drove home and went to bed alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Rhys is a Welsh name pronounced reese (meaning enthusiasm) by the way. Its one of my favorites but can be hard to read due to its origin.


End file.
